Flicka's Granddaughter
by Moonlight Marching
Summary: Kaia's previous horse, Buckshot, was killed in a tragic accident when a storm came suddenly while the horse and owner were out riding in the mountains of Wyoming. Kaia's father, Clint, is determained to get Kaia up and back loving and riding horses again. Can Flicka's granddaughter, an unnamed black filly, help him with that goal, or will Kaia keep away from the horses forever?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
AN: Okay guys, first fanfic here I come! I really hope you guys like it, for some reason I'm in a horsie mood, so this one will be a original version of Flicka! Think of it as Flicka 3... or 4. I think there's a third one now, but I'm unsure.

'The stories we here of how the west was one were all lies. The history of the west was written by the horse. Wherever a settler left his foot print there was a hoof print right beside it. Man came further and further west to stake their claims on the great American wilderness, but they encountered a strength that could not be tamed: wild horses. The settlers called them parasites that could strip the land and starve their own herd. They couldn't domesticate them so they destroyed them. Isolated and hungry they were on their way to disappearing from the face of the earth. Sometimes when the lie disappears an after image remains, just for a moment mustangs are an after image. No better than ghosts, hardly there at all. No one really wants them not ranchers, not city people. That's their destiny; let them disappear once and for all with all the other misfits, loners and relics of the wilderness no one cares about anymore. Lucky for us a few mustangs survived, hidden away in the mountains. We need to protect them for them, for they are the hope for some kind of living memory of what the promise of America used to be, and could be again.  
I believer there is a force in this world that lives beneath the surface; something primitive and wild that awakens when we need an extra push just to survive, like wildflowers that bloom after a wildfire burns the forest black. Most people are afraid of it and keep it buried deep inside them, but there will always be a few people who have the courage to love what is untamed inside of us. '

Kaia closed the essay book, looking up at her father with a confused look on her face. "What does this have to do with me?" she asked, holding out the book for him to take.

Clint eyed her, his annoyance showing in his eyes. He took it, holding it gently, as if it was going to fall into dust at any second. "This was your grandmother Katy's." he said, going over and setting it on her dresser. "She was my mother, and she showed me that determination, and love were two of the three things that make up life."

Kaia leaned back on her pillow, staring up at the ceiling. The walls around her were covered with horse posters, and her shelves covered with horse books. On her dresser, along with the newly placed essay, were rows upon rows of horse competition trophies. Ribbons hung along the edge of the mirror above it, lining it in a ring of blue, red, green, and yellow. "What's the third?" she asked, though she knew the answer.

Her father didn't move, his eyes trailing along Kaia's show of her skill with her previous horse, Buckshot. "Kaia." he said "You can't just not ride anymore. I know Buckshot was special to you, and that accident was bad, but there's nothing you can do about it. I know your scared of losing something else. You don't think I don't think of that every time I get on a horse? I'm scared of leaving you alone in the world. Your mothers gone, and there's nothing we can do about it. But you can do what would make her proud, and get back up on a horse! Buckshot would want you to."

Kaia sat back up, tears in here eyes. "Buckshot is dead, Daddy! And it's all my fault. If I hadn't taken him so far that day, we would've gotten back before that storm! Then Buckshot would be alive, and I'd be riding in the Championships next month. Just like last year, and the three other years before it."

Clint turned around, fixing Kaia with a stare. "Sweetie." he said "That storm coming round was not your fault. There was no warning, nothing. The skies were clear that morning, and there was nothing on the news about a storm. You had no control over the mudslide, or the fact you couldn't get away. No control Kaia, None. Now, tomorrow morning, you are coming down to the barn, and you are going to start caring for that foal that your grandmother gave you. Got it?"

Kaia blinked, her grey eyes falling onto the photo on her bedside table, of her grandmother Katy, her cousin Carrie, and a black horse thats name hadn't escaped a single ear across the state of Wyoming. Flicka. "Daddy?" she said "What ever happened Flicka's foal? The one that Carrie found with her when she brought her back from the wild?"

Clint smiled "You'll find out in the morning. Let's just say that colt knew your new horse pretty well. Good Night, Kaia."

"Good Night Daddy." Kaia said, laying back on her bed again, pulling her blanket up close to her. She watched her father turn out the light, and shut the door with a small click, plunging her into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Short chapter, I know. It's what I'm famous for, sadly. I'm working on making my chapters longer. Anyway, Sorry this took sooooooo long to make, I'm embarrassed to say I'd forgotten about it. I'm going to be faster on the next one, promise. Please review and tell me what you think! Again, I'm not one to frown at mean reviews. They'll help me get better! Also, excuse my spelling mistakes, if you find any. I did spell check, but still, I've had my spell check make mistakes before. Who knows when it'll happen again?**

Chapter 2:

The next morning, Kaia opened her eyes to a loud silence. She blinked back the tears that immediately came to her eyes. It used to be, that every morning, Buckshot would whinny real loudly from the pasture connected to the barn, and wake her up. And only her. She was the lightest sleeper out of her and her father, and the stable hands all lived in the barn. But they all slept like rocks from the work they did all day with the horses, and the ranch. Kaia sighed. It seemed to her everything was just to quiet since Buckshot... left. All the ranch hands wouldn't talk to her, for a reason she didn't understand, and all the other horses weren't as loud as Buckshot had been. She stood, going over to her closet and slowly got dressed in her usual t-shirt, jeans, and western boots. She picked her hat up off of the hook by the door, opening it with her other hand and walking out. She knew nobody else was yet awake, for it was only 5:30, according to the wall clock right outside her room. She headed downstairs, pulling the orange juice and some other supplies out of the refrigerator and starting breakfast up, as she did every morning. Kaia smiled and looked up when her little beagle puppy, Bailey, walked in.  
"Hey boy!" she said, reaching down and patting his head. Bailey barked happily, and nudged her leg with his nose. "Shhhhh" Kaia whispered. "You'll wake everyone up!" She dropped the eggs she'd been making onto a platter, and set the breakfast on the table. She'd been making meals for the ranch hands and her father ever since her mom had left. _They're probably thoroughly tired of eggs and pancakes by now,_ Kaia thought, heading into the living room. She smiled at the picture of her, and Buckshot as a foal on the wall, feeling tears prick the backs of her eyes. Shaking her head, Kaia turned determinedly away from the picture.  
"Pancakes and Eggs _again_?"  
Kaia jumped and turned to see the youngest farm hand, Jackson, standing at the door, behind him, Horace and Trace, the other two farm hands, moaned. Kaia put her hands on her hips.  
"Well," she replied. "When you give me an order for a meal that _isn't_ eggs and pancakes, I'll make it. At you're own risk. Remember last time? You know I'm not a good cook."  
Horace made a face. "Well, isn't there a cooking class at that public school of yours? Take that."  
Kaia rolled her eyes. "I am. So far, all I'm learning is how to make pancakes." All three of them moaned, and the floorboards above their heads creaked.  
"Boss is awake," Trace said. "Better get to work."  
"Better eat your food," Kaia said. "Now sit down, all of you." Horace muttered something about her being just like her mother, and him, Jackson, and Trace sat down at the table, serving themselves some food.  
"Now, Kaia, you can go down to the barn and take care of that foal of yours." Kaia turned, a scowl placing itself on her face.  
"My foal? Not so much my foal as a horse you've placed on me so I'll stop remembering Buckshot. But guess what Daddy? I will NEVER forget him! Never!" she turned and walked out the door, slamming it shut behind her.  
"Don't worry Boss, she'll come 'round. I saw that little filly myself this morn', and boy she's a cute one. Firey to, just like her grandmother." Trace said, taking a bite of pancake.  
"I sure hope so," Clint replied, taking his seat at the table.


End file.
